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October 26, 2006

Chrystee Fugris

Chrystee Pharris used to be on Passions. And although at times Passions is the best show on television bar none, we can understand how being on a soap featuring the floating head of Adrian Zmed in a tri-corner hat, a living doll, a monkey-nanny named Precious, the huge unrequited crush of Precious on Luis The Hot Cop (Precious has good taste) that featured numerous fantasy sequences -- including a Dynasty-themed one -- in which Luis and Precious are thwarting their oppressors in order to be together while drinking banana smoothies, tittering faux-clowns who kidnap a pregnant woman and throw her in a basement hole and then taunt her, and mystical talking candles that warn people to remember The Shed (actual, horrified response: "I could NEVER forget THE SHED") could addle your brain and cloud your judgment.

I would mention the mermaid and the Da Vinci Code knockoff story that featured an army of angry lesbians, but that was after Pharris left.

At any rate, though, given all that unusual experience, we should probably look upon the following outfit/contraption with understanding.

Well... probably.

But the thing is, I cannot understand. I can't even wrap my brain around it. What... is it, exactly? How is that not the world's most annoying item to have on one's body? Does she have it rigged to rise and fall like a window shade? Is she a string fetishist? Is she selling three different price-levels of ad space? Is she in costume as Pokeahotass: Street-Walking Princess Of The Night? Or has playing the daughter of a rageaholic former tennis pro -- whose life was ruined when he got hit by a car that ended his tennis career and caused his father to die of heartbreak, and who as a result has kept the aforementioned Car of Doom locked in a shed to foster his obsession with the man he thought hit him, leading to him snapping at his daughters, "I thought I told you NEVER TO ASK ME ABOUT THE SHEEEEEED!! I don't TALK about the SHED" -- actually, really, truly tuned her a tad deranged?

I'm practically speechless here. I feel so cold, suddenly. Lost. Confused. Somebody please hold me. And get that girl some scissors. I think there might be some in the shed.

Posted by Heather at 01:28 PM | Permalink


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